He Reminded Me Of You Queer As Folk
by Idealuk
Summary: Similar opposites always attract.  Can Brian and Harvey team up to split Justin and Mike so they can have them, respectively?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: There was a request for a "Queer As Folk"/"Suits" crossover story at suitsmeme on LJ where Justin and Mike are dating and Brian and Harvey team up to split them up to get them where they belong. Here's what I came up with. This is my first published fan-fiction story (not drabble) EVER, so I NEED feedback. I'm choosing to ignore the fact that the law firm's actually called "Pearson Hardman". A company with multiple surnames as a title with out, at the least, an ampersand? That's just silly! This now being BETA'd by LJ's "skuzzbopper," AKA my saviour. Enjoy. ... Chapter 2 will be written and up soon.**

_There he is,_ Harvey thought to himself _... with him_.

Commanding lawyer, Harvey Specter, hadn't frequented a bathhouse so much since his Harvard days, shortly after realizing that sex with a man had certain expediting benefits - as well as some others Harvey would deny if he were, in any way, the shameful type - after getting hammered with some imported farm boy at a frat party. It wasn't that he was gagging for it more than usual, though he was, but more about whom he was gagging for. Nearly a month prior, Harvey had overheard him telling Rachel that the reason he was so genuinely happy for her when she started seeing a sculptor named Salvatore was that he'd recently started seeing some one, too, also an artist. "Name's Justin Taylor. Heard of him? I don't know much about new art, but-". Rachel gasped, clutching at one of Mike's arms out of plain shock, but that was nothing compared to Harvey's unseen reaction, "You mean you're ...". "A bisexual male," young Mr. Ross concluded. Rachel countered by saying, with a vixen grin, "Wish you would've told me sooner ... yeah, I have heard of him, actually. He's amaz-". Harvey stopped listening and resumed heading down to Ray and the limo for his 3:00 meeting. He couldn't distract himself fast enough from this onslaught of information, and that unnerved him.

There, now, weeks later, he was watching them go at it 15 feet before him. They were unaware of his particular presence, but some young, freckled thing kneeling directly in front of him was surely aware of Harvey's whereabouts (in his mouth), Harvey's reflection mocked only him in the mirrored wall by his side. Three and a half hours. That's all that it took. At around 6:30 on the day in Harvey learnt of his associate's ancient and modern sexuality (and current relationship), he had retreated to his upscale apartment and secluded himself to his shower stall to renew himself for a typical night of white-collar swindling by way of being a powerful and attractive lawyer. Before he contemplatively knew that he was turned on, dick in-hand, answering a subconscious urge from his nervous system, Mike Ross was the one and only thing that his boss's mind's eye could see as he, uncharacteristically, frantically jerked himself off in his lonely shower. Harvey didn't go out that night. That night, after not contemplating how, nor why, he was fantasizing about the messy puppy while getting off, he contemplated. Well, his brain tried to for a few hours, but Harvey, his whole self, conjured a lie to his brain, and other parts of his body (mainly, chest and groin), that he didn't care, and just went to bed.

He went out the next night. He did some thing sort of new; he wandered in to a gay bar, having sent Ray home early, and not leaving the office himself until after nine. He sat in a stool chair for approximately twenty minutes, nodding off the various random men whom made attempts to approach him while he let his glass of cognac nurse him, for he needed looking after and not the other way around. _This is ridiculous_, he thought, jamming the empty, useless glass back on to the bar with more than enough cash. He started to grab his suit jacket from the back of his stool when his eardrums were turned in to chalkboards and a familiar smart-assed laugh played like fingernails against them, and he froze mid-action and turned his head towards the door, whispering to himself, "Of all the places ...".

There was Mike, striding through the frame with a blonde, ex-twink-looking man following in behind him. Harvey had an instinct to somehow flee before Messy Puppy saw him, but he found that his absorption with the concept of "Mike's Boyfriend" was stronger.

Justin was shorter and only slightly older than Mike. There wasn't any thing wrong with him, but he wasn't what Harvey thought was right for his preferred lackey. _Mike should be with a guy more older, well-to-do_ [obviously, Harvey's path had never crossed Justin's prior to now],_ like-minded (Mike can recite every book he's ever read; how could this guy appreciate Mike's natural intellect and ability to out-wit those whom only think that they're superior?)_ [again, Harvey Specter had never met Justin Taylor before]_, and his own height! Wait ...,_ Harvey put an end to his run-away-train of thought, _I just found out the kid's in to guys; why am I assuming I know his type? ... And, why did I just fucking describe myself?_

Just then, as Harvey wanted nothing more than to get out of there, Mike spotted him.

Mike suddenly found himself with the task of deciding which scared the crap out of him more; his boss finding out that he had a thing for guys (_he told Rachel; what was wrong with Harvey finding out? – he couldn't think about it_), or the now-easy assumption so did his womanizing boss. His face said it all. Messy Puppy could easily have his nickname changed to Blinded Dear, but Harvey was too self-conflicted himself to consider a re-dubbing. Before Mike could remind his jaw muscles that they normally rest higher than their current position, Harvey jutted from his bar stool, and went towards the door as though he were any where else (like he owned the place and every one in it). At the door, standing in front of Mike (still stagnant), he waited for acknowledgment.

"Uh, Harvey ... hi ... this is Justin. Justin, this is Harvey, my boss," Mike stammered, making the appropriate gestures.

"Boyfriend, I presume," Harvey said, cool as a cucumber, holding out a hand.

"... Yeah, hey," Justin answered, shaking Harvey's hand. "Nice to meet you".

"You, t-" Harvey was replying as the barkeep interrupted from behind them, "Lonely sir, your jacket".

Harvey clambered back to the bar to retrieve one of many Armani suit jackets, glaring at the elderly man whom he took it from, and went back to the door where Justin and Mike still stood, observing the odd behaviour.

"I want that Shaeffer Disposition on my desk by 7:30, tomorrow morning," Harvey declared. With out having to wait for a response, he was gone from the establishment.

42 minutes later, the boyfriends emerged from the building, looking perfectly contented, and ... well, gay. Harvey felt a rare burning-pit sensation in his chest. He was never this pathetic. Correction: Harvey Specter was never pathetic at all, but his curiosity was ruling him; he needed to know more about _this_ mysterious side of Mike. Being the only person in his "new life" to know about his old one was no longer enough, and he silently berated himself as he trailed Mike and Justin to a ... _a bathhouse?_ a block away (yes, any further and Harvey would've given up). In dismay, Harvey hailed a cab back to his apartment with out being re-seen. His brain was tangled with revelations of a Mike Ross he hadn't been previously privy to; a Mike Ross that he wanted to know more of ... a lot more of.

At work, the men acted as if nothing happened; nothing changed. Harvey still rode Mike as hard (though, his musings of Mike riding him, hard, started threatening actual distraction), and Mike was still on a mission to prove Harvey wrong when ever possible, if unknowingly in one particular case. Again, Mike and Rachel were talking with Harvey eavesdropping.

"So, what? You have sex in public?" Rachel asked in a hushed tone.

"No! ... I mean, yes, but it's dark, and ... ugh, I don't know! ... It is exciting, and we go every Thursday, but he can seem distracted when we do it there". Rachel had to repress a guttural laugh as she rolled her eyes as if to say 'obviously'.

"No, I mean I think that he used to go to them with the infamous ex back in Pittsburgh, and I know that Justin's not completely over him, and ..." Mike tried to explain.

"But, didn't that end years ago?" was Rachel's next prompt.

"Brian Kinney apparently doesn't do relationships or love, but proposed to Justin when Justin was only 23, and he only left because of his career, and Justin hasn't really dated again until now. I heard all of this from their friend, Emmett, when he came up for dinner and to see 'The Book Of Mormon' on Saturday. And, Brian's moving here next week!" Mike ranted.

Rachel shrugged, and held up a folder. "Well, 'And' Boy, I have to get these to Gregory, but know that, while I wouldn't say this to you on your first day, you're cute. You never know what'll happen".

And, with that, Rachel left.

So, they weren't perfectly contented. Harvey almost disgusted himself as he had Donna clear his schedule for the foreseeable Thursday nights quietly from his Blackberry, but Justin was sounding more and more like he'd only break Mike's heart, and Harvey's job was to protect Mike _... right?_

Weeks went by, all of Harvey's showers (and other daily occasions of sperm excursions) were now completely focused on Mike. _Why did the kid have to suck on highlighters so ... intelligently?_ And, thanks to his strategically anonymous nights at Northern Men's, Harvey knew that highlighters were just a substitution for what Mike actually liked to suck on.

He also knew that Mike liked getting fucked. Seeing how Mike liked getting fucked slowly and teasingly turned Harvey in to putty for faceless men who'd be mistaken to think he's coming harder than most have ever seen was because of what they did to him.

So, here he was again, shooting a load in to Freckles's eager mouth. Still trying to keep his eyes on a naïve Mike and blinded-by-his-own-orgasm Justin through his afterglow, Harvey noticed a man slide up beside him, and felt the deadly-sexy-(and-not-just-for-his-age) ~40 year-old lean in close to his ear.

"Stop gawking. He's mine," said the Adonis.

"Get in line," retorted the audacious lawyer, half-heartedly.

"Was there first, will be there last," countered the beautiful stranger.

Jealous rage was what brought Harvey Specter completely back from his post-ejaculation haze, though, luckily, no one but the man whom he was addressing noticed (Freckles had already moved on). "You've slept with Mike?"

The smug look on the older man's face immediately turned in to one of puzzlement. "What? No!" His gaze fell back on the man whom he thought they were both referring to, and the gangly, yet cute, thing he's just screwed and raised an eyebrow. "... No. I meant the beautiful blonde-boy-ass who's just fucked him so good 'cause he learned from the absolute best," he assured Harvey.

"Brian Kinney?" Harvey began to smile. There was hope yet.

"My reputation proceeded me all of the way up to here, in The Big Apple?" Brian sardonically questioned.

"Ever heard of Harvey Specter?" was asked of Brian, and "Partner at Pearson & Hardman," with alliteration on "Hardman," "-one of the law firms I'm considering for the new office of my leading advertising agency, Kinnetic. Sexy, young lad, but far too high-strung for my taste," was the answer he gave while playfully leaning closer.

"Meet me outside in 20. I'll give you my card. You want Justin back," Harvey gestured towards the blonde, "and I want him," gesturing to Mike, whom was losing himself in one of Justin's sweet kisses. "Let's work some thing out".

Seeing _his_ Sunshine with an "age-appropriate" brunette was the only reason that Brian later did get the card; he thought that he could use the help.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Because of LJ's comment character limit, the chapters on suitsmeme are shorter. For every 5 or so there, I post one in the other places.**

**-Kaile**

The next day, Donna showed Brian in to a conference room towards the back of Pearson & Hardman's main offices for a 1:00 meeting with Harvey, and only Harvey.

Harvey thanked her as he entered, and said that "No, we won't be needing any thing, Donna". He double-took his assistant's procrastinating stance. "...You can go now," Harvey specified, making a vain shooing movement.

"I'm a flaming homosexual!," Brian called out, over-hearing from his seat at the table.

Donna responded by tossing her head in an 'Oh well' movement. "Lucky Harvey" she proclaimed coyly, knowing all of Harvey's "secrets," before finally heading back to her desk, shutting the glass door behind her.

"This Mike kid, do you love him?" posed Brian as Harvey sat down.

Harvey winced as he straightened his tie, but was silent as he got comfortable in his chair. Brian tilted his head, and raised an eyebrow, not settling for a muted answer.

"Look, love and I ... I'm Harvey freakin' Specter, I don't _care_!" spat the lawyer.

Brian chortled at the familiarity.

While rubbing his brow line, guarding his eyes, Harvey, betting that Brian wouldn't relent until satisfied, offered "He's all I can think about ... he showboats, he's too old to be as much of a wunderkind as he is, too quick to the draw, ... messy, but I want him safe and naked 25 hours a day!," and ended his admission throwing his hands forward with an embarrassed laugh.

The ad man shrugged, knowingly. "If it's any consolation, if you two are as like us as it sounds, you have just skipped about five years of bullshit. ... That was a 'yes,' right?"

"We haven't even screwed, yet! I didn't know that he liked men until he was with Justin!," Harvey said, the words almost a plea.

At that moment, Mike walked past the interior glass wall of the room, fingers absentmindedly tapping the folder in his other hand, unaware that he had caught the attention of both men inside, or that they were talking about him with no manner of professionalism.

"In the light of day, he is pretty _boyilicious_, ... and, shit, can he wear a cheap suit!" gleefully stated Brian as he swung his head back around to Harvey.

Harvey grumbled, and, again, kneaded his forehead. "... What's the plan?"

"You let him dress like that?" Harvey only sighed in annoyance as a response to Brian's question and waited for one to his. "... No plan. Justin and I love each other," Brian dared needing no further explanation.

Sounding like his lawyerly self, Harvey redirected, "You think Justin will just leave Mike for you?"

"I thought that you wanted Junior for yourself?," ever the pragmatist, Brian volleyed back with this. Continuing, "You're smart, hot, rich, and powerful; I'm sure you'll find ways to show Mike that he shouldn't put up a fight," Brian's brand of logic was simple, but extremely relevant.

Though, now Mr. Specter was truly at a loss. "So why are you here?"

Brian spoke patronizingly slow. "You are the sexiest - and best - corporate lawyer in town, and I'm a highly profitable businessman who's new to the area whom deserves only the finest in legal representation".

Harvey got up to call Donna back in with the designated paperwork, but turned back before opening the door.

Brainstorming on his hopeful – no, _probable_ - future, he plied "What happened to you two?"

Brian was looking focus-less in to his lap, "Nothing. He needed to come here to be the next, better, Warhol. He'd would come back to visit every few months, and we'd screw like mad men. Four months ago, Jennifer, his mother, invites me, and my son, over for dinner. She tells me that she doesn't think he'll come back for a while and shows me a picture of him with your precious Michael. Being the wonderful woman, and realtor, that she is, she already had the paperwork drawn up for an apartment on 6th, and an office building on 29th. I signed the leases that night. See, we've kind of already been down this brown-haired-boy-genius road before, and it, along with other trying situations, only taught her that I couldn't be better for her son."

An hour later, Kinnetic was Pearson & Hardman's newest company client, and Brian, Harvey, and Donna crossed Mike, whom was coming from Legal Storage, in the conference hallway as the contracting was completed.

"Oh, hey, Tobey Maguire," Mike looked at Brian in bewilderment of being suddenly addressed by a man of such an unmistakable presence. "Why don't you ask your boyfriend about the joys of boffing your boss?," finished Brian, feeling the burn of Harvey's eyes from behind him.

Donna was amiss with out Smart Pop.

Masculinely twirling around to Harvey, Brian pointed out, "There. I helped." And, Donna's eyes grew even wider.

"Excu-," Mike attempted to gain some perspective on this flustering situation that he prayed would be over as quickly as it began; he could barely breathe with the two notions of having sex and 'his boss' so closely associated to one and other, and his spine told him that he had to find out why. However, Harvey took on blading his hands under his chin and interjected, "Don't mind our newest revered client, he was just leaving," and he guided Brian to the door, while both Donna and Mike stood back wearing similar expressions of shock and awe for separate reasons, but based upon witnessing the same unlikely scene – Harvey Specter had exhibited nervousness.

"Hand me the paprika. So, how was work today?," Justin communicated while stirring sauce on the stove of his apartment that night. Mike was over to have dinner.

"Harvey-" Justin rolled his eyes just out of his boyfriend's view. Mike clearly had an abnormal preoccupation with his boss, though it wasn't as if Justin could even be upset. Some one else was always preoccupying his mind, as well. "-had me doing basic due diligence for all of his pending and on-trial cases while he chose to sign a new client by himself, though he did kind of save my ass when the guy randomly started asking me personal and crazy questions on his way out," regaled Mike, tossing the older man his own paprika shaker.

Justin applied the spice, and removed the tortellini from the strainer. "Sounds like Harvey's difficult to read". He started putting the mise en place together, and pulled out some plates.

"Like how he demands that our suits - every thing - has to be pristine and proper, but will _try _to verse _me_ on Stallone impressions on the street with a hot dog in his mouth? Or, like seeing him in that bar after I've had to witness him dangling flaunty women around him like they're on his key ring?" Mike actively agreed, grabbing the plates from his boyfriend, obtaining utensils from a drawer, glasses already set out on the counter, and setting it all around the table.

"_You_ like women" Justin examined, proffering the food to the table. "I think that Harvey and you are the opposite sides of one coin," he tilted his head in that known Justin-Taylor-knows-all way. "... Sure you don't just have a thing for him?" he joked, conforming in to a standard chair-and-table sitting position.

Mike sank in to the other chair. If he were more in-tune with himself, he would've felt his whole universe turn on its axis in that moment. He would have seen that Justin wouldn't have cared too much if it had. Instead, he took flight in to defense mode.

He spoke skittishly. "Me and Harvey? That's never going to happen! The man has an ego the size of Mount Everest. He'd fire me for just thin-".

Justin had to keep the sip of water he'd just taken in from coming out upon hearing Mike's overreaction. "Hi, I was just kidding!" he noted, laughingly.

"... Jus, have you ever slept with a boss?" Mike inquired after a slightly awkward pause.

"I said that I was kidding," the elder shot back, growing slightly less light-of-heart.

The would-be lawyer waved a hand in apologetic reassurance while forking his pasta with the other. "No, that's what the new client asked me. He told me to ask my boyfriend about the joys of having sex with your boss".

Folding sauce that had run off back on to his pasta, Justin asked, "Who was this guy?" with a smile of speculation.

"I have no idea. Harvey said he heads an ad agency that used to be based out of Pennsylvania. Pretty hot for a freak, though". Mike, eyes on his plate, hadn't noticed Justin deftly getting up to go to his phone, walking in to the next room with it before he finished wording his reverie.

Justin keyed in "1" on his speed dial, and prodded the Talk button. Mike could faintly hear him say "You're in town?" to the person on the other end of the line in lieu of a greeting.

Confounded by being abandoned in the kitchen so abruptly by his boyfriend, he couldn't help but continue listening to Justin's half of the conversation.

"... So you moved your entire life here? ... It's not like that. ... He's nothing like _Ethan_! ... No. ... Yes". Mike could now hear wistfulness in Justin's voice. "... I don't know. ... No". Even Mike - even from his distance - could tell that, what ever the topic, Justin was only lying to himself.

"Yeah, okay, I'll be there," he promised, ending the call, and walked back in to the light of the kitchen to find Mike pacing non-rhythmically.

"That was Brian, wasn't it?"


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Because of LJ's comment character limit, the chapters on suitsmeme are shorter. For every 5 or so there, I post one in the other places. LJ's "skuzzbopper" and I have parted ways merely due to living entirely different lives, so I'm back to writing this on my own. I've reworked this chapter, as well as polished up the first two, and will get the final two up A.S.A.P. Enjoy.**

**-Kaile**

That was the moment in which Mike's universe started to turn.

_Why did he tell Harvey he "helped"? Why would Harvey need his help? Why did Harvey look nervous? Does he think I'll tell the office he likes guys? Did he want Brian to throw me off so I'd keep quiet? But, why did Harvey look so mad? ..._

The faux associate's mind was riddled and cluttered with enigmas that seemed not to end.

"Mike! Are you listening?," asserted Justin, finally breaking past Mike's thoughts. Mike, nevertheless, stared dubiously back.

Justin sighed, and scratched the back of his head. "I said that I'm sorry. ... I knew it was him, and just wanted to know what game he was playing. I should've ... would any one know the proper reaction in that situation?," he spoke softly, barely able to move.

Looking away, "No, you're right. I get it," Mike attested. He hung his head and let out a laugh.

Due to the sheer awkwardness swarming around them, trapped in such a small space, Justin laughed, too. "What?," he implored, ducking his head forward.

"Nothing. Never mind. ... Har- ..." The last word was muttered on top of not being completed, but Justin could see clearly the name that was written all over his current lover's face. He knew that, at least subconsciously, Mike understood what it was like to have all of one's life questions come down to one answer, one name. He just hadn't thought Mike was in that deep yet.

Maybe it was to stave off his own guilt, but Justin endured, "_Really?_".

"I'm a _relatively_ cute guy with an eidetic memory, but you—you—you're ... And, with him? ... I—I know that I'll never match up to Mr. Incredible, Mr. Sexy And Audacious. I don't have the experience, slick style, or the ability to smile as if every body in the fucking universe should know to be grateful I'm alive, and my ties will never be wide enough!, so I understand how you could be so easily distracted by him, and forget all about me and my fucking skinny ties! Freakin' Fredo," Mike finally finished raving, wrenching at the tie that he still had on from earlier in the day, and sat back down on the same chair he had been in moments before in attempts to calm himself.

Justin bent – still standing – in to contoured shape that his boyfriend's body was making, and fixed him with a look. "I can get you a new tie. Nice and thick," the blonde mused, both patronizingly and flirtatiously.

Mike guilelessly bore in to the back of the chair in exacerbation. If only he could tell that his boyfriend knew that it wasn't Mike's ties, him, or his seemingly ever-present ex that was the sole herald of his frustration. _Harvey_.

The tortellini meal was consumed in a near comfortable silence, thanks to both parties muting any, and all, questions in their respective heads, and enjoying the here-and-now.

This condition lasted until they were in Justin's bedroom after making out on the couch for a while. By now, Justin has shed Mike of his crumpled skinny-tie and was working on the buttons of his shirt, his lips pressed against his throat, but not kissing. His mind was elsewhere, with someone who wasn't this young, cute lawyer.

... And by now, even Mike knew where his thoughts really were. But, at this point, neither of them cared. They'd take what they could get "in the moment".

Mike allows his shirt to hit the floor, his hands pulling at Justin's fly, absent-mindedly tugging it down and pushing a hand inside. For a second, as it always did, his consciousness flickered and flashed to Harvey - his lips curled in that smirk of his, his fingers twirling his pen like a magic wand as he commanded a targeted client to sign - but the thought was gone in seconds, his synapses refusing to dwell on the unattainable, and he pulled Justin out of his pants, wrapping his fingers around his girth.

Justin had wanted to move on, really, but had already learned the hard way years ago that there was no moving on from Brian Kinney - not for him - so, as his mouth formed a dull 'o' against the neck of the man whom was in the process of getting naked with him in his bedroom, he began adjudicating with the voices in head; as Mike started jerking him off, Justin's brain scurried to painlessly make it the last time. But, just how was he going to get out of this mess – painlessly, or otherwise? Mike would never cheat on him the way Ethan had so past experience didn't provide applicable suggestions.

Mike breathed out a soft sound emulating some thing halfway between frustrated and hopeless. The worst part was, here was the ex, right where Justin needed him to be – finally in New York and just waiting for him to drop Mike and come home to him. It was like he knew that no matter how hard he tried, Justin would never be able to walk away. Of course Brian knew that. He already reminded the callow lawman of –. Mike knew that type of guy – that type of "over"-confident asshole. And, he knew that once you were lost to him, there was no going back.

The blonde pushed Mike onto the bed and forcefully shucked his pants off. It was an uncharacteristic move, but he needed – and wanted – to be some one else. The Justin Taylor he knew himself to be would never make the life of a sweet guy like Mike any more twisted and complicated than it had to be, yet here he was, so he couldn't be himself. He made Mike rub harder by grinding towards the bed with Mike crushed in between.

Mike didn't know what had gotten into his usually temperate boyfriend, but he liked it. With a groan, he rocked his hips upward, arching toward the sweet friction Justin was using to subdue him, gladly allowing him to take control. Again, Harvey's smirk bled through his mind's eye, that velveteen "Good Boy" he'd graced Mike with months prior echoed hauntingly in head like it was just hours ago that he'd first heard it. He shoved all of it back, not wanting to allow the invisible narcissists in the room any more solidity between him and the man he's – right now – flesh-against-flesh with. With his luck, though, chances were, Harvey was psychic and tomorrow he'd find a note on his desk asking why he was thinking of him while he was "bumping uglies" with his boyfriend and, inexplicably, Brian would be there, comfortably leaning and chomping on a Granny Smith, eyes volleying from to the note to Mike and back in a possessive, if albeit amused, glare.

Justin swiftly reaches towards Mike's hole to jab a finger inside, desperate to -... does he even have a plan at the moment? No, but being in any way stagnant would overload his brain with doubts. He thrusts it a few good times before adding a second.

Mike can't even believe this is Justin – that sweet guy he met just over four months ago. ... It's like a switch was flipped, and now he's some one else – some one aggressive, who takes what they want, when they want it – some one like -_No_, he tells himself, squeezing his eyes shut. _Stop it._ He can't think of Harvey right now! He just can't, but still he's there, ghosting through his mind, making him bite his lip and cling to the sheets as the phantom image of him collides with the feeling of Justin's fingers to drive him completely out of his mind.

Now crazed with memories of Brian undoing him just like this swimming through, not only his brain, but that and his entire nervous system, Justin flips Mike's legs over his shoulders to better ease in a third finger, and kisses him in a way that's all firm lips and teeth.

That kiss takes Mike's brain offline and within seconds he's screwing himself around those fingers, whining like a dog, begging for more of that hot roughness. For a second, their teeth clack together, hard enough to hurt, but he takes it in stride, contorting his limbs a little higher, taking those fingers like a pro as his mind is stuck on the image of Harvey's snaring little smile, his I'm-going-to-damn-well-win-and-before-you-can-even-recognize-what's-occurring smirk. ... Fuck. He's all he can think about, _damn_ him.

Brian's fake pout, his self-conflicted wince, and his honest and loving smile shoot to the front of Justin's mind as a trisected set of well-documented mental images. How did they get here? How had he fucking left him? Mad at himself (mad at the world), he strips Mike's insides of his fingers and replaces them with his heavy, pounding cock with no time for Mike to miss the digits or the dick he'd been tugging at.

Eyes blowing wide at the rigid intrusion, Mike's mouth falls open in a rough gasp. "HARV—!" he cries out – bucking hard against that cock – but then the world goes still. Because he just - ... –Did he really just ...? Oh Fuck. He sucks in a long, tense breath, clenching a little around the misidentified extrinsic eight inches inside of him, wishing he could go back in time and tape his mouth shut. Or, some thing. Oh Fuck, _SOME THING_.

Justin quietly laughs as he drags a hand down his face. He actually catches himself wondering how that had not happened before. As much as it can, his body relaxes. He's suddenly – and finally – assured that severing his relationship with Mike will be easier than he feared. He knew that Mike was the type that, once he could admit to what he truly wanted, he'd go after it by what ever means until it was his. Like that, the weight is gone, and he decides to just enjoy one last fuck with the young and exuberant solicitor. He begins ramming in to him with free fervor.

Shocked, Mike throws his hands above his head, holding on to the headboard as he's fucked mercilessly in to the mattress. That's definitely not the response he was expecting, but _Jesus!_, is it phenomenal. He cries out loud and wild - pumping up on that pulsing cock like he needs it to live - flashes of Harvey and Justin and the most beautiful features of them both blending together in his mind.


End file.
